


The Worst Wedding Crasher

by binx95



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Cake, Dancing, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Plot Twists, Romance, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 19:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3621525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/binx95/pseuds/binx95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean tries to hide that his date isn't going to show, so as to not draw attention from Sam's day. At the same time, an unfamiliar man shows up to the wedding, ordering endless plates of red meat and staring at Dean with his big blue eyes. This wedding might not be so bad... (Destiel, AU Wedding T for lang)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Worst Wedding Crasher

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on fanfic.net :)

Dean took another swig of champagne; silently wishing it was something harder. He was happy enough that he didn’t REALLY need it, but Dean thought that just getting dumped over the phone the night before his brother’s wedding warranted a harder drink. Especially when Ellen and Jo keep pressing to meet Dean’s mysterious date that is “in the toilet” “getting us drinks” and “took a separate car”. He could only keep up this charade for so long.

 

Dean decided when Lisa dumped him that he was going to pretend that his date was there, so as to not draw attention from Sam and Jess’ reception. The ceremony was easy because Dean had to stand next to Sam at the altar, but usually dates sit together at a reception, so Dean was running out of time.

 

As Dean finished his glass, he got up from his table that was adorned with lights and twigs in vases – the theme being “rustic fairytale,” which Jess described as “hunter chic” to convince Sam. Dean personally thought that Sam would have liked any theme Jess picked (they were so sappy that way) but “hunter chic” definitely fit them.

 

Dean was just happy they kept the open bar. He made his way over to his new best friend (the bartender) to get another glass of champagne.

 

Jo pinched Dean in the side and he swung around, almost spilling his new flute of alcohol. It took a second for Dean to recognize her in the pale pink cocktail dress Jess picked for her bridesmaids. Jo’s hair was curled, too. Dean wondered if Sam and Jess bribed her to look all dolled up for their big day, and how much.

 

“He’s really cute, Dean” she said, beaming at him. “Definitely didn’t think you would be into such a dorky guy, but to each his own, I guess.”

Dean stared at her.

“What?”

 

Jo rolled her eyes and downed her glass of champagne. “Don’t play dumb with me, Winchester. I know you’ve been trying to keep him away from us but he had to eat sometime, and he sat down at your table, so I did the math and introduced myself.” She had to catch her breath at the end of the sentence. “He’s adorable.”

 

Jo put her empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray. Dean looked at her blankly; he still had no inkling of what she was talking about.

 

Jo was past the point of picking up on social cues, so she smiled and punched him in the shoulder. “You’re lucky I’m wearing a dress, can’t hit as well with all this fucking tulle around my arms.”  


She laughed as she walked away, stumbling into Charlie and taking the glass she was holding.

 

Dean watched Jo walk away, stunned. His date was supposed to be Lisa…who obviously looks like a woman, and not some dorky guy. Dean’s mind raced.

What the fuck?

 

Dean walked towards his table, closest to the happy couple’s table (“Best man’s gotta have the best seat, amiright?”). A man had seated himself in the place where Lisa would have sat, with a dirty tan trench coat draped over the back of the chair. He was eating the red meat option, which Dean had respect for, but he was definitely out of place. Dean tried thinking of the faces of Sam’s law school buddies, but this man didn’t match anyone in that rowdy group.

 

Dean jerked his seat back, to try to scare this unwelcome guest at his table. The man looked up obviously surprised, his big blue eyes taking up most of his face. Dean’s first thought was that Jo was right about how dorky he looked. He was wearing a dark blue suit and his tie was backwards. Dean quickly remembered what he was doing leaning on a chair facing this blue eyed stranger. He puffed up his chest.

 

“Are you at the wrong table, buddy?” Dean tried to laugh like he wasn’t annoyed, but it came out more forced and anxious.

 

“The name card just had ‘plus one’ on it, and I figured I could pass off as someone’s date. I don’t mean to intrude.” The man’s eyes searched Dean’s face for a clue to whether or not he was intruding.

 

Dean paused. He sat down in his chair and rubbed the back of his neck absentmindedly.

“Are you trying to crash this wedding?”

 

The man chuckles and drops his fork and knife. He moves his hands to fix his blue striped tie. “Is it that obvious?”

 

Dean smiles and says, “I’m the best man. I first thought you could be one of Sam’s law school buddies, but…you don’t look douche-y enough to be one. So, that would make you my family, or Jess’ family. But I’d know you if you were family, since mine isn’t that big and I’ve met all of Jess’ relatives.”

 

The man considered this, and shook his head “My family is substantial, to say the least. I’m escaping from them in a wedding in the next hall. I guess I assumed I’d be more invisible, which was the opposite of what happened when I sat down, and that young blonde girl attacked me. I’m guessing you’re Dean, or my date to this lovely party.” He gestures to the card at the seat next to him that has “Dean Winchester” written in a flowery script.

 

Dean nodded, “Yeah that’s me. Who are you?”

 

The man wiped his face and hands with a linen napkin, “Castiel Novak. Do you think I could get another dish of this? My family has only vegan options for their wedding and I’m dying.”

 

Castiel searched Dean’s face again with his blue eyes.

 

Dean starts to nod, of course he can have more food, the more the merrier! But this is a wedding crasher. A poor excuse for a wedding crasher.

 

Dean shakes off his smirk and scoffs, “Woah woah woah, do you think you’re staying? Dude you’re crashing my brother’s party. I should be kickin’ your ass to the curb right now.”

 

Castiel narrows his glowing blue eyes at Dean, assessing his options. His voice drops an octave. “Dean, if you wanted to kick me out, you would have done it already.”

 

A shiver travels up Dean’s spine, and Dean uses his trademark charm to distract with a sly, “You know, the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.”

 

Castiel cocks his head to the side. “Is that a flirtation?”

 

Dean laughs. He thinks that this might not be a bad idea. At least he has a date, one who is already liked by a difficult and nosy family member.

Castiel has that intense-but-occasionally-dorky look that Dean falls easily for, not to mention those blue eyes that are downright hypnotic.

 

“It might be, if you’re lucky. Okay, Mr. Hotshot Wedding Crasher. I’ll be your date so you don’t get found out. You’re really bad at this, so, you’re welcome.”

 

“You don’t have a date? Your features are symmetrically angled, I assumed you would be already engaged in a romantic relationship.” Castiel’s brow furrowed, but his mouth curled like he was trying to hide a smile.

 

“Thanks for the compliment, but no, my date cancelled on the whole Dean package last minute, so I haven’t had the chance to tell anyone I’m no longer…” Dean drops his voice an octave to mock Castiel’s phrasing, “romantically engaged.”

 

Castiel smirked. “This sounds like a equitable deal.”

 

“Yeah yeah, super equitable. I just need to get through this wedding without anyone asking too many questions about ‘when it’s my turn.’ Ugh, gimmie a break.”

 

“You don’t believe in marriage?”

 

The question startles Dean. He looks over at Castiel, and his head is cocked to the side again, with his eyes fixed on Dean’s green ones. Dean swallows in response, and chokes on his own saliva. He takes a swig of champagne, and Castiel is still waiting for an answer.

 

“I mean, I never meant that, I just don’t really have time to go looking for ‘the one’ or whatever.” Dean coughs, “You know, all this romantic talk is a little out of place.”

 

“Dean, we’re at a wedding”

 

“Alright, Cas I get it. You want a drink? I can’t have my date sober.”

 

Castiel nods solemnly and waves a waiter down for more red meat. Dean shakes his head and starts toward the familiar bar once again. Castiel reaches out and grabs Dean by the arm.

“Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Thank you.”

Dean smiles. He turns before Castiel can see his cheeks flush pink. Maybe the wedding won’t be too bad after all.

 

* * *

 

Castiel watched the happy couple laugh and dance on the dance floor. The man (Sam?) was beaming at his bride (Jess? Thank goodness for place cards, Castiel thought.) as she pulled out her updo and let her long blonde hair fall over her back. She and Sam were yelling the lyrics to _Mr. Brightside_ at each other and jumping up and down.

 

Castiel chuckles to himself and cuts into his second steak.

 

Next door, the wedding between Michael and Lucy was too stuffy and professional. The ceremony seemed like a business transaction. Castiel didn’t even know why Michael and Lucy were getting married anyway. They had fought over almost every aspect of the wedding and Castiel couldn’t bear to be a part of the reception for a minute longer. No one protested when he slipped out though a side door.

 

Castiel lets out a groan as he chews the steak he’s eating. It’s practically primal. Eating healthy and green for so long has given him a renewed craving for red meat.

 

“Was that a hungry sound or a sex noise? Actually, don’t answer that.” Dean returned from the bar, and placed a flute of champagne down on the table.

 

Castiel looked at Dean with his eyes wide with joy. He said between bites, “These make me very happy.”

 

“You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack, okay? Just slow down. Here, drink.” Dean pushed the flute towards him.

 

Castiel looked at Dean curiously, but gulped down some champagne.

 

Satisfied, Dean sat down, his body facing Castiel. He smoothed his suit and rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, so far all I know about you is that you’re terrible at crashing weddings—“

“Says you”

“Cas, you are so goddamn obvious”

“Dean, you’re the only one who ‘found me out’ and now you’re my ‘cover.’ I would protest that I am fairly skilled at this.” Dean thought Cas’ use of air quotes was atrocious but endearing.

“Alright, alright. You’re fucking fantastic at crashing weddings. Happy?”

“Yes. Proceed.”

“Thanks. You also have a huge family made up of stuck up dicks, and you love red meat and eat every steak like it’s your last meal. Your favorite color is probably blue, because of your blue suit and matching--“

Dean cut off and Cas looked at him curiously, his glowing blue eyes fixed on Dean’s green ones.

“Tie. Your blue tie. Am I right?”

Dean’s face broke into a slight smile and raised an eyebrow.

 

Castiel’s face turned from peach to a darker rose color.

 

He glanced quickly at Dean’s expectant expression and then fixed his eyes on his black tie and replied casually, “I don’t necessarily believe in favorite colors, as they exist on a spectrum so picking one color would be like picking all of the colors at once which defeats the purpose of picking a color anyway.”

 

Castiel searched Dean’s face to see if that was the wrong answer. Dean just looked stunned.

 

“That was…uh…insightful, Cas. Where do you work that you know that kind of stuff?”

 

Castiel considered this and smiled. Though he enjoyed thinking about abstract ideas, he didn’t think he could continue doing it after his upbringing. “My career does not involve the visible colors on the electromagnetic spectrum, as I am a beekeeper. My father is a professor of philosophy, so we grew up with his existential influences.”

 

Dean leaned forward, “I didn’t expect you to be a honey-gathering type of guy. How did you get into that?” He sipped his champagne.

  
“I sort of fell into it. Long story short, I woke up naked covered in bees.”

 

Dean choked on his champagne. “Oh my god,” He threw his head back and laughed, when he saw two girls approaching. He pointed his finger at Cas, “We’re coming back to that later.” 

He turned just as Charlie and Jo sashayed clumsily over to them.

 

Jo sat on their table and pushed back the lights and centerpiece while Dean and Castiel moved their glasses and plates from her potentially destructive backside.

 

“Cas you already met my lovely and drunk coworker Jo, who works with me at the garage,” Dean offered this piece of information to Cas’ suddenly fidgeting self.

 

Castiel nodded tentatively and stuttered, “Of course, yes. The garage. Where you work. With Jo.”

 

Dean and Castiel held eye contact for a few seconds.

 

Charlie coughed. “And I am Charlie, a.k.a. Dean’s best friend. But you already know that, right?”

Castiel nodded.

“Hey, you two have been making eyes at each other for like, ever now. How long have you two been dating?” She looked at Dean and tilted her head  


“Four months”

“Six months”

 

Dean and Cas looked at each other. Dean pursed his lips at Cas who made a small shrugging movement.

 

Charlie crossed her arms and smiled knowingly, “Uh huh. Well which is it?”

 

Dean coughed. His eyes darted quickly from Cas to Charlie and finally said, “We met six months ago, but we’ve been dating for four months.”

 

Dean wagged his eyebrows at Castiel whose face flushed. He downed his glass of champagne.

 

Charlie clapped her hand on Dean’s shoulder. “That is so adorable. So how did you meet?”

 

Dean’s cocky smile left, “Uh, yeah, right well six months ago…”

His head jerked up toward Cas and he smiled sweetly. “Hey babe why don’t you tell this one? I don’t want to do all the talking for us…”

Charlie narrowed her eyes at Dean.

“…You dreamy blue-eyed devil.”

 

Cas held eye contact with Dean and said, “He fixed my car.”

 

“I don’t remember you coming to the garage, this one would have told me.” Charlie gestured to Jo, who was fussing with her sleeves.

 

Castiel answered seriously, “I have not paid the garage a visit yet.”

 

Dean interrupted quickly, “that’s right! His car got a flat on the side of the road and I stopped to help him change it. Beautiful car. Really fast machine.” Dean cocked his head and smirked, “Cas kept the motor clean and—“

 

“And then did he shake you all night long?”

 

Dean gaped at her. Cas’ eyes widened and his face somehow turned redder, but he didn’t dare say anything.

 

“Seriously dude? I spend enough time with you that I’ve picked up some lyrics to AC/DC music. No offense, but don’t compare meeting your boyfriend to a song about aggressive sex. Gross.”

 

“Right, yeah, uh, no. No.” Dean looked at Castiel to make sure he wasn’t uncomfortable, but he looked pleased. Dean made a mental note, but turned back to his smug friend.

“Dammit, Charlie shouldn’t you be drunk?”

 

Charlie put her hands on her hips and shrugged. “Eh, I tried but Jo kept taking my drinks out of my hands. Besides, you remember what happened last time I got really drunk. Slave Leia?”

 

Dean chuckled, “Comic-con. Damn that was good.”

 

Castiel squinted at him, “Comic-con?”

 

Charlie laughed and leaned on Dean’s shoulder, “Oh he didn’t tell you? Your boyfriend here is a huge nerd. Loves himself some Game of Thrones and cosplay and LARPing and all that good stuff. We bond. NBD.”

 

Jo suddenly jerked up and felt her dress frantically.

 

“Where the hell is my knife?”

 

Jo leaped off the table, balanced herself, kissed Cas on the forehead and ran towards the door of the hall.

 

“Oh blerg. Guess I have to grab her. Castiel, you obviously make Dean here very happy so you’re good in my book.” She ruffled Dean’s hair and lifted her red dress to reveal a pair of neon green Converse high-tops to run after Jo.

 

 

* * *

 

* * *

Dean rubbed his wrists as he and Castiel watched Charlie jog off to stop Jo. Dean figured she wanted to use her knife to sharpen the ends of flowers into points, a habit she started when Sam and Jess brought home an example bouquet. Her bridesmaid’s bouquet could easily be used as a weapon.

 

For some reason, his wrists were bothering him. He told himself the soreness started when he and Charlie went to the batting cages last week, but that didn’t _seem_ right. He wasn’t too concerned, but the idea of being 33 with achy joints really freaked him out.

 

“She is a very curious young woman, Dean.”

 

Dean turned to see Castiel watching the door through which Charlie and Jo ran, and it gave him a chance to admire the profile of his date. This strange man was quickly growing on him and he entertained the thought of how nice it might be to reach out and feel his date’s stubble. _Would Cas object?_ Dean realized that maybe in the right context it wouldn’t be so weird. _Middle of your brother’s wedding? Weird. Waking up next to the guy on a Sunday morning? Not so weird._

 

Dean imagined the early light pouring into his room in the apartment they shared, warming their bed and causing Cas to groggily roll over to Dean’s side. Dean pictured the mussed hairstyle Cas would sport when he first woke up and--

 

 _Oh God._ Dean thought _, Did I just want to wake up next to him? Oh no….I’m so fucked_

 

Dean moved his eyes down Castiel’s cheekbones to watch his lips, until he realized he had been staring in silence for a moment too long.

 

Dean cleared his throat. “Charlie? She’s like a little sister, so it makes sense that she’d want to know everything. And she hates keeping secrets. She’s a human recipe for disaster.”

 

Castiel turned to looked at him worriedly and said, “Disaster?”

 

He chuckled. “It’s a figure of speech, Cas.”

 

“Oh.” Castiel paused to consider this. “Is shaking someone all night long also a figure of speech?” Cas’ still-pink face from Charlie’s previous comment showed that he knew the answer to his own question, but he took some pleasure in seeing Dean’s face turn to match his.

 

Dean’s face, now turned as red as Charlie’s dress, broke into his signature cocky grin. His mind flashed to Cas’ more-than-likely bedhead. “Well, yeah, Cas…but uh…this figure of speech can more than just that.”

 

Castiel’s eyes seemed to turn from bright blue to the sky during a storm. He fixed his narrowed eyes onto Dean’s, and Dean wasn’t sure if he took what he said about “the last time he got laid” seriously. He hoped Castiel did. They held eye contact for what felt like a year to Dean.

 

But Castiel moved his eyes away from Dean and straightened his tie. Dean watched Cas’ Adam’s apple bob just as Cas caught him looking. He smirked.

 

Dean smiled at him and nodded, to nothing in particular. He felt warm from a combination of the alcohol and the attention.

 

Dean felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

 

“Dean my little angel, is this your mysterious date?”

 

Mary Winchester, looking regal in her simple cream-colored dress and matching shawl, smiled sweetly at Castiel.

 

Dean quickly stood and kissed her on the cheek. “Mom this is Castiel. Castiel Novak, meet Mary Winchester.”

 

Castiel rose from his chair and smoothed himself out. He reached out a tentative hand, “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

 

Dean couldn’t help but smile at his formal tone. He put a thumb up and mouthed to Cas, _Smooth._

 

Mary caught her son’s smile and beamed at the both of them. “Oh sweetheart,” She said to Castiel and his outstretched hand, “Family doesn’t shake hands. Come here.” She opened her arms to him.

 

Castiel’s eyes widened with silent joy. He let himself be softly cocooned by Mary’s surprisingly strong arms and her shawl.

 

Dean put his hands and his pockets and looked at the pair of them. Cas fit right in. Who’d have thought?

 

Castiel and Mary broke their hug, and Mary took his face into her hands. She looked at him intently. “Is this one good to you? You have kind eyes, full of wisdom and I want you to be happy.”

 

She moved her hands off his face to Castiel’s shoulders. “You’re good for my Dean. He needs someone dependable and kind but tough.”

 

“How do you know that I am—“

 

“Mother’s intuition. I can feel it in your shoulders.” She gave him a small squeeze.

 

They looked at Dean and Mary fondly said, “This one can put on a hard face but he’s my little softie. Like a marshmallow. Isn’t that right Dean?”

 

Dean smiled but used his hand to cover this and rub his face, “Mom!” He couldn’t stop smiling at the two of them.

 

“You know I love you.” She moved from holding Castiel and opened her arms to Dean, who wrapped _her_ in a firm hug. She kissed the side of his head and murmured, “I just wish your father was here to see this. To see you and Sammy so happy…”

 

Dean nuzzled his head into his mother’s shoulder. He kissed her head in response.  It was a few years since they lost John to a heart attack. Dean was lucky he spent so much time with him, playing baseball and fixing up cars. His childhood was spent with John and Sammy going on car rides to visit their Uncle Bobby for fishing.

He remembered that they would walk in smelling so much like fish that Mary would tease that they’d turn her apple pies into fish pies. This of course would make Dean dramatically scream and run to the bathtub, with Sammy tottering behind him, shrieking happily.

 

Mary let Dean go, and looked at him with teary eyes.

“Well,” She sighed, trying to wipe away all traces of her tears. “Okay, sweetie. Don’t forget to introduce this one to Bobby and Ellen.” She kissed his forehead and turned to caress Castiel’s cheek. He smiled and she winked at him before leaving to sit with Jody and her family.

 

Castiel’s face broke into a huge smile, “I like her.”

 

Dean loosens his tie. “Good, she’s the best. I’m glad she likes you.” Beads of sweat pooled at the nape of Dean’s neck and rolled down his back.  He breathed out forcefully.

 

“Dean?”

 

“Yeah, Cas. I’m okay, I’m fine, just feeling really warm.”

 

Cas rushed forward to help him take off his suit jacket. “Are you sure you are well?”

He took the jacket and draped it over the chair.

 

Dean held onto his date’s arm and couldn’t help but agree with his mother’s strength comment. _Not the time, Dean,_ he thought to himself.

 

“I think its just nerves. Seriously, Cas, don’t worry.”

Cas squinted at him. Dean noticed he was standing very _very_ close to his face, but didn’t feel the need to protest.

 

Castiel held Dean’s face with his free hand. “Let’s get you a glass of water.”

 

“I’m already feeling better since I took off my jacket. I’m not used to wearing so much uncomfortable formal shit.”

 

Cas scowled at him.

Dean smirked back. “Cas, I’m just a little sweaty but I’ll get water if you want me to.”

 

Cas dropped his arms to his sides. “I would appreciate that.”

 

“Good. Fine.”

 

They walked towards the bar together, hands bumping shyly against each other.

 

 “One glass of water,” Cas growled to the bartender.

 

He handed the glass to Dean, who gulped it down in one go.

Dean spun around to show off. “All better.”

 

Castiel had shoved his hands in his pockets, and looked at Dean with a mixture of worry and amusement. They noticed the music had changed to a slower song, and there were a few couples on the dance floor including Sam and Jess.

 

“Hey, they played it!” Dean looked pleased, “Sam and Jess said they weren’t gonna play any of my music!”

 

_I find myself in a strange situation_

_And I don't know how_

_What seemed to be an infatuation_

_Is so different now_

_I can't get by if we're not together_

 

Cas had his eyes on the floor, but he smiled as he listened, “It is romantic.”

 

“Hey, it’s Foreigner. I mean, it’s the cheesiest song I wrote down, but at least they picked one.” Dean blushed. He wasn’t a sap, but this song was a godsend.

 

“Do…you…” Cas looked back up.

 

It took him a minute to figure out what his blue eyes were saying, but Dean exclaimed, “OH! Dance? Um, okay. Yeah. I mean you are my date. Dates dance at weddings. That’s totally normal.” He chuckled nervously.

 

Dean guided his date to the dance floor and they awkwardly embraced. Dean dragged his hand down to the small Castiel’s back and Cas followed. They clasped their hands together and swayed to the music.

 

They became more comfortable as the song flowed on.

 

_I'm longing for the time_

_I'm longing for the day_

_When I'll be giving you this heart of mine_

_Believe me when I say_

“I’m uh…sorry for being too sweaty.”

 

“Dean I feel very comfortable. There is no need for an apology.”

 

“Oh, okay.” Dean’s heart pounded in his head. _Don’t fuck this up. Do NOT fuck this up._

 

Castiel rested his head on Dean’s shoulder. “This is nice.”

_I don't want to live without you_

_Live without your love_

_Live without your love_

_You see I'm lost without your love_

“Dean”

 

A tap came from the shoulder Cas was not using.

 

“Dean, it’s time to cut the cake!”

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 _Typical,_ Dean thought _. Sammy Winchester: level infinity cockblocker._ True, it was his wedding, but it was almost like Sam’s purpose on earth was now to keep him from dancing with his boyfriend. He loved the chance to feel how he and Castiel fit together, and the dancing was also keeping his mind off his sore wrists.

_Woah woah woah_ , Dean mentally corrected himself, _Not your boyfriend. He is your fake date to this wedding._

As the song faded out, Dean released his dance partner to turn and face his happy brother who looked like he was ready to jump out of his own skin.

 

Sam’s face was stuck in a smile from the beginning of the day, no matter what could have happened. As per usual, his messy long brown hair was now matted on his head in a combination of sweat and hair gel. Sam had rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt up when he insisted on swinging Jess around the ballroom. Sam had demanded on dance lessons to impress her on their wedding day, and they definitely paid off.

 

Though Sammy was interrupting him, Dean couldn’t help but smile. Today was the day that Sam was looking forward to since he decided Jessica was “the one,” which was pretty much the day he met her.

 

On the bright side, cake! As best man, he got to go with Sam, Jess and her maid of honor to the cake tasting. They had settled on a decadent triple-chocolate cake with a whipped chocolate mousse filling, all covered in white fondant. It had black ribbons at the base of each of three tiers and what looked like black wallpaper to Dean stenciled above the ribbons. Of course, there was miniature Sam and Jess on top of the cake. Sam decided the mini pair of them was the best part, but Dean knew it was going to be eating that chocolate monstrosity.

 

Sam’s smile plastered face looked at Dean and flashed his eyes over to an oblivious Cas. Well? Introduce me, Sam’s expression seemed to say.

 

Dean rolled his eyes and gently grabbed Cas by the arm to get his attention towards his little brother. He had a pang of guilt for introducing Cas to almost his entire family, but he was such a great sport about it.

 

“Castiel Novak, this is my pain-in-the-ass younger brother slash groom, Sam Winchester. Sammy, this is Cas.”

 

They shake hands and Cas offers Sam a shy smile.

 

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Cas. Dean hid you away from us for months, so we almost thought you weren’t real or were part of a rival family or not cute enough or something.”

 

Both Castiel and Sam turned to face Dean. “Dean, do you believe I am ‘cute enough’ to be in a relationship with you?”

 

Though Dean had a moment of panic, he still couldn't help smirk at Cas' serious use of air quotes. Castiel and Sam were still staring Dean, waiting for a response. Sam looked like he was enjoying this, and he raised his eyebrows at Dean's panic-stricken face.

 

Dean rolled his eyes and hesitated, "Yeah, Cas. I think you're pretty damn cute."

 

"That is comforting."

 

Sam stifled a laugh.

 

“Hey, maybe the reason I didn't bring him around was that I didn’t want him to get freaked out by you, Sasquatch.”

 

“Shut up, jerk!”

 

“I’d call you a bitch, but it is your wedding day, so I’ll let this one slide.”

 

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled, but flipped his switch back to business mode. “Dean, let's be serious. I know you want to slow dance with your dreamy date but I have to cut the cake with Jess. And you need to get ready.” He punched Dean’s shoulder and skipped off to join his new bride behind the cake.

 

Castiel tilted his head, “What are you getting ready for?”

 

They watched as people gathered around for Sam and Jess to carve into the cake. People snapped photos of the scene, and flashes of light filled the room. Dean saw a flash of blue in his peripheral vision. He rubbed his eyes.

 

“My speech as the best man is coming up, after everyone sits for dessert.”

 

“Is that why you were perspiring earlier?”

 

“Sure, Cas. It’s a big deal, you know? I don’t want to fuck it up.” Dean scratched the back of his neck.

 

“I don’t think you are capable of fucking it up.” Cas made a face as he was trying the obscenity on for size, and Dean chuckled. “What is it, Dean,” He said in his husky voice, “Did I use that word incorrectly?”

 

“No, Cas. You’re just so goddamn dorky.” Dean squeezed Cas’ shoulder with affection. “Come on, let’s get some cake.”

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Everyone clapped and whistled as Sam and Jess kissed cake frosting off of each other. An attendant cut the massive cake and passed plates to waiters standing by.

 

Cas whispered, “Is smothering someone with dessert customary at weddings?”

 

Dean looked at Cas' concerned expression and responded, "Yeah, haven't you been to a wedding before?"

 

"I have not."

 

"Well, okay then. Usually the happy couple cuts the first piece and feeds it to each other. It's supposed to be romantic, I guess."

 

Excited to finally get some dessert, Dean grabbed two pieces for him and Castiel off of a waiter's passing tray.

 

He offered a slice to his date, "I hope you like chocolate. I'm more of a pie fan myself but this ain't bad."

 

Cas stared down at his slice of cake and stuck his finger in it.

 

Dean chewed his cake and watched Cas, "What are you doing?"

 

Cas touched his frosting covered finger to Dean's confused lips.

 

"Romance," Cas proudly declared.

 

Dean laughed from deep in his belly and moved his hand to his face to wipe it off the white frosting, but Cas grabbed his hand before he could.

 

 

 

 

Cas’ glowing blue eyes were fixed on Dean’s now pursed lips.

 

 

 

 

 _Shit,_ Dean thought. He froze.

 

 

 

 

Cas looked like he had never made a move on a person in his life.

 

 

 

Time slowed, Dean felt like Cas was moving in slow motion.

 

 

 

Cas leaned in, eyes still focused on Dean’s almost expecting a word of protest. But he didn’t get one, and he closed his eyes. Cas swayed into a kiss, pressing his lips against Dean’s mouth.

Dean carefully reached his hand around Castiel’s lower back like they were dancing again.  He savored how Castiel melted into him. As they kissed, Dean became hyper-aware of the nerves on his lips and how his heartbeat pounded through his lips.

Cas opened his mouth slightly, accounting for every last bit of frosting. The kiss tasted like Dean’s chocolate-covered tongue and sugar from his lips. They pulled their lips apart. Cas, still touching his forehead to Dean’s, licked his lips.

 

Dean’s eyes fluttered back open and his heart hammered away in his chest. He smiled shyly. “Um, right.”

 

Cas’ eyes were again studying Dean’s shoes, “I hope that wasn’t a violation of your personal space.”

 

“Not at all, Cas. You’re my boyfriend, after all.”

 

Cas raised his gaze and crinkled his nose.

  
“That’s not, uh, what I mean. I don’t know what I mean. D-don’t worry about it.” He wiped sweat from the back of his neck.

 

“As you wish, Dean.”

 

Remembering where they were, Dean checked around the ballroom for onlookers. He caught Sam’s eye, who simply winked at him and raised his glass. Dean rolled his eyes.

 

Ash came out from behind the DJ’s table and said into a microphone, “Okay everyone, now that everyone has their dessert, the bride and groom want their family to say some cool stuff about them.” Ash flipped the ends of his mullet of his shoulder and pointed at Dean. “Winchester, that means you, buddy.”

 

Ash started clapping as Dean grabbed a half-full flute of champagne on his table.

 

Cas rubbed Dean’s back and joined the applause.

 

Dean huffed a breath of air and walked over to take the microphone from Ash. He saluted the tuxedo wearing Lynrd Skynrd roadie.

 

Dean collected himself and watched Bobby and Ellen approach a Cas sitting at their table.

 

“Okay, uh. Thanks everyone.”

 

The applause died down and Dean nervously smiled at the small crowd that was gathered.

 

“So I’m Dean Winchester, Sammy’s best man and older brother. Yeah, older, my little brother is tying the knot before me and if I hear another joke about that I swear to God…”

  _Wrong direction, Dean._ He thought to himself after a few chuckles from his audience.

 

“Um, we could tell Sammy and Jess were going to stay together from the beginning. When we talked on the phone he would tell me about this pretty blonde who he kept seeing in the library. Um…when they started dating Sam wouldn’t stop talking about Jess this, and Jess that. How perfect she was, how funny, how smart…”

 

 Noticing a newfound pang of pain in his arms, Dean looked down at his hand holding the mic, and he thought he saw blood pouring from his wrists.

 

“Oh _no_ ,” he murmured.

 

He looked back up to his audience, who were waiting for him to continue. Cas was attuned to his expression of panic and perked up at Dean’s glance.

 

Dean checked his wrists again and they were fine. Still throbbing but no blood. _What the fuck is happening with me?_ The room spun.

 

He cleared his throat, “Sorry, anyway…I’m gonna get real sappy and say that I love Sam and I’ve always wanted the best for him. Jess, you’re the best for Sam. Hands down. I only hope that someday I find someone that I love as much as Sam and Jess love each other.”

 

Dean was sweating profusely. Something was wrong. His knees wobbled and he leaned on the DJ table where Ash was sitting behind. Cas stood up from across the room.

 

“Now, let’s all raise a glass to the happy couple,” Dean lifted his glass, out of breath. He was met with a chatting crowd who, unsure, lifted their glasses as well. “Sam…and Jessica”

 

Dean collapsed onto the floor. Cas and Sam jumped out of their seats and ran over to where Dean fell.

 

Sam shouted, “DEAN!”

 

But Castiel got to Dean first, lifted Dean’s head and murmured, “no no no no Dean”

 

Sam shouted at an attendant, “Call 911! Get me some water, now!”

 

Dean saw two of each of them. His vision was blurring.

 

“Dean, no. Stay with me. Stay here with me, please,” Castiel begged him. “You don’t ever have to leave. Please.”

 

They went out of focus, and Dean saw a dirtier pair of Castiel and Sam shaking him, but they blurred and tuxedoed Cas was still holding him.   


Dean reached up to touch his date’s face. “Cas, Cas, Cas…”

His ears rang with Cas’ voice commanding him to stay.

 

His vision went black. 

 

* * *

* * *

 

Dean woke with a start. He was slumped in a chair surrounded by his own blood, wrists coated but not split open, just bruised and burned from where ropes had tied him down.

 

Dean looked at the floor around him, and noticed medical apparatus used for blood doners.

 

He felt dizzy, and wanted to throw up.

 

“Dean?” Sam lifted his chin and met his brother’s droopy eyes. Dean noticed that his hair was longer, below his ears. Sam was wearing a familiar brown suede jacket, with a blue plaid snap up shirt underneath.

 

Dean chuckled groggily, “Hey Sammy”

 

Sam smiled, relieved.  “Do you look to get overpowered by djinni? Because they seem to love you.”

 

“Screw you, Sam.”

 

Sam shook his head, “Thank God you’re okay. Charlie’s got the car, she’s on her way back from bringing the other victims to the hospital, so whenever you’re ready to get up, we’ll help you walk out.”

 

Dean scanned the room. He saw that they were in some sort of abandoned factory, covered in inches of dust and cobwebs.

  
“Sam, where are we?”

 

“You don’t remember? We were going to Bobby’s to dig up three of the horseman’s rings in the yard…as a bargaining chip to get rid of the Mark… when we caught wind of a case in Sioux City. None of this rings a bell?”

 

“It’s still a little fuzzy. Keep talkin’. Gimmie details.”

 

Sam sighed but gave in. “We’re in the KD Station, a slaughterhouse that was abandoned after a gas leak killed 21 people. Locals have been saying it’s haunted for years, with all kinds of machines whirring in here, but recently there were a few missing persons who were all suffering from different forms of depression. Add that to new screams coming from the slaughterhouse and we’ve got a case. Dean, why does it matter the details of the case? You’re exhausted, let’s get you back to the bunker.”

 

Sam moved toward Dean but he put a hand up in protest.

 

“Goddamn it Sam, wait a second. I just need to know what got me here. So it wasn’t a haunting, just a djinn?”

 

Sam crossed his arms. “Yeah. So get this, Ancient Arabic lore says that djinn can someties have human-like emotions, like sympathy. So this djinn was scooping up people with depression and giving them specific fantasies where they found what they were missing. No mental health problems, plus better jobs, better family, more money, love… and then the djinn would feed off of them, guilt-free.”

 

Dean considered this. He looked at the Mark on his arm sadly.

 

Sam put a hand on his shoulder. “Dean, it’s okay. We’ll get the Mark off you as soon as possible.”

 

Tears prickled at the corner of his green eyes. “It was so real this time. I don’t understand…”

 

“It was harder to get you out of it this time. Something about this fantasy made you want to stay...” Sam trailed off, as he heard footsteps shuffling toward them in the darkness.

 

A low voice echoed in the room, “Sam, Charlie has returned if Dean is ready to depart.”

 

Dean’s face shot up towards the trench-coated figure.

 

“Cas,” He breathed.

 

“Hello, Dean. I am glad to see you regained consciousness.”

 

Dean’s heart felt like it was in his throat, pressing and suffocating him.

 

He grunted to clear his throat, “Good to see you, too.”

 

Cas nodded and moved closer to Dean’s chair. “Do you feel well enough to start moving? You lost a lot of blood.”

 

Dean shifted in his seat, pressing the balls of his feet in his boots to the ground, feeling how strong he was. He stood, and wobbled.

 

Cas swiftly moved his body under Dean’s arm for support. Dean’s blood pounded in his head.

 

Cas’ face was so close. It had it’s own gravitational pull.

 

Cas re-distributed his weight and said, “Ready, Dean?”

Dean croaked, “As I’ll ever be.”

 

They moved out of the building in unison, with Sam trailing behind as a spotter.

.

.

.

Charlie scooted over to the passenger side window of the Impala, and smiled at the group of them. “We ready to go, bitches?”

 

Dean laughed, “Hey Charlie. I thought you were headed to Tuscany to help us get rid of the mark”

 

She smiled back, “I had a delayed flight and Sam called in for reinforcements. You know I love saving a damsel in distress and hate djinn.”

 

Sam opened the door for Castiel and Dean, as Cas helped to guide Dean into the backseat of the Impala. He made sure Dean was secure, and closed the door to get in the car on the other side.

 

Dean leaned forward to put his hand on the back of the passenger seat, and Charlie promptly spun around on her knees to face him.

 

“Did your flight really get delayed? You left us, what…a week ago?”

 

“Well it didn’t, but there will be more flights to Tuscany. I’ll go after we get you back to the bunker. Besides I gave myself a free first-class flight voucher for my troubles!” She smiled, pleased with herself. Her arm was still in a sling, but the bruises on her face were nearly faded.  

Dean had a pang of guilt about the reality of his situation. He thought about how happy she was getting into mischief with Jo. Or how _he_ thought she would be happy. His head ached from the fake memories the djinn gave him. His skin felt itchy from being covered in his own dried blood.

 

Cas slid onto the backseat of Baby and slammed the door, startling Dean. He winced. Cas noticed his slight movement and put a steady hand on his shoulder. Dean’s face flushed and he avoided Cas’ worried gaze.

 

Sam finished packing the trunk and hopped into the driver’s seat. “Here we go, gang.”

 

Charlie snorted, “Dork”

 

They pulled out of the abandoned parking lot and onto the open road.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Dean was tired, but his eyes stayed open the entire ride back to Lebanon, Kansas.

He watched as the highways turned into farmland and then little towns and back into farmland and highways. He still felt loopy from the after affects of the djinn’s poison, and almost expected that when he fall asleep, he would wake up on the floor of the hotel ballroom surrounded by dead faces.

 

He appreciated the familiar landscapes of the open plains and occasional livestock along the route from Iowa. He watched the sky change as the Impala rode through the Midwestern sunset. Dean barely moved when he heard his favorite song play on the car’s radio, even though he knew that Sam put _Travelin’ Riverside Blues_ on for his benefit.

 

Somewhere after Omaha, Charlie recounted a hilarious story about a comic con in which she cosplayed as Hermione, only to end up hooking up with another Hermione and getting caught after-hours in a LEGO exhibit. Sam laughed heartily at Charlie’s animated storytelling while Cas wanted to know if she had built her own LEGO structure in which they kissed. Dean managed a chuckle, and went back to staring out the window like a lost puppy.

 

His heart was still lodged in the back of his throat, but refused to change his facial expression. This was another job that he butchered, almost killing himself by wanting to stay in a fantasy world. He wondered how they pulled him out of the trance, because he never saw visions of the djinn’s other victims in his own hallucination.

 

At a rest stop in Aurora, Nebraska, Sam and Charlie got out to go to the bathroom and grab some grub for the rest of the way. Castiel and Dean were left alone in the Impala. Cas briefly got out to pump gas into the Impala, and paced a bit to stretch his legs. When he finished, he slid back into the backseat. 

 

“Cas…?” Dean murmured.

 

Cas was somehow surprised by Dean’s almost inaudible utterance.

“Yes, Dean?”

 

“How…” Dean took a breath. “How did you snap me out of it?”

 

“It was difficult.” Cas paused, trying to soften his response, “Your unconscious mind was…invested in your hallucination. I had to use my grace to burn the djinn’s poison from your blood. I apologize; you were in an extreme amount of physical pain for a moment. It caused you to perspire and convulse, but I will ensure that there is no long-term damage.”

 

Dean bobbed his head in a half-hearted nod. “…Thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome, Dean.”

 

There was a moment of stillness in the air, when Cas croaked out, “I do have a question for you as well.”

 

Dean’s heart stopped for a moment in his chest. He wasn’t nearly ready to tell anyone, let alone Castiel, what the djinn let him see.

 

“I think…I recall you mumbling my name, when I was trying to revive you. Surely you weren’t yet conscious? Was I causing you pain in your vision?”

Dean met his eyes, the clear pools of blue reflecting back Dean’s own worry. _It hurt,_ Dean thought, _but in a very different way, Cas._

 

Cas’ voice shook with his next statement, “I don’t want you to fear me, Dean.”

 

Dean put his head in his hands, “Cas I’m not afraid of you.” He groaned, “You were trying to get me to stay, in the vision.”

 

“So you were saying my name? I don’t understand–“

 

Dean snapped,  “Can you blame me? I collapsed. I didn’t know what was happening to me. Can we talk about this later?”

 

He instantly regretted it, but he just didn’t know how the angel would react to the story he had. How Castiel cradled his head as he passed out, after dancing with him, after kissing him…

 

He looked back up at Cas, whose face looked crinkled in confusion. _You hurt his feelings, you dick,_ Dean scolded himself.

 

Thankfully, Sam and Charlie came back. She spun in her seat, “Beef jerky, Dean?”

 

He shook his head. He wasn’t hungry, just nauseous.

 

She understood, and turned back around. She ripped open a bag of Twizzlers and started chewing one.

 

Sam looked back at the pair of stubborn, silent men in the backseat. He ate a handful of trail mix and started the car. They were on their way again.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

They pulled back into the garage of the bunker after the five-hour drive home. The group got out of the car and stretched.

 

Charlie yawned. “I am totally gonna nap for like three years. You Winchesters are terrible for my REM cycle.” She laughed and grabbed her backpack out of the car, swinging it around the un-slung shoulder.

 

Sam carried his and Dean’s bags, and Castiel guided Dean inside by a light touch on his back. Warmth emanated from his touch, and for a second, Dean forgot about his ordeal.

 

They trudged down the stairs of the bunker, and separated to their rooms to drop their stuff down. Charlie muttered something to Sam in passing, before scooting off to a hallway off of the kitchen. Dean felt like he was being babied, which he hated, but at the same time he didn’t want to protest because of how shitty he felt.

 

Sam carried Dean’s bag into his room, and checked to make sure he didn’t trip on his way to his bed. Dean slumped into his bed, and stripped off his boots and his jacket, leaving his maroon t-shirt and worn-in jeans on. His arms were still coated in blood.

 

“Okay, so you have your phone to text me if you need me to get you anything.” Sam started, “Charlie’s gonna be right back with some washcloths and clean clothes, so uh…don’t fall asleep yet.”

 

“Thanks, Sammy.”

 

Sam patted the doorway with his hand. “It’s good to have you back, Dean.” He turned on his heels and nearly bumped into Charlie on his way out.

 

“Hey, slugger.” Charlie was carrying three towels with a set of sweatpants, boxers, and a baggy t-shirt slung over her shoulder. Cas followed closely behind with a small bucket of warm water, which he placed next to the bed, and hurried back out again. Charlie watched the non-interaction between the two of them and plopped herself at Dean’s feet.

“Trouble in paradise?”

 

Dean furrowed his brow at her. A week ago she could barely look at him.

 

She shrugged, making a “stop” motion with her uninjured hand. “Okay, I’ll let you tell me.”

 

She dipped the top towel, a small navy blue washcloth, into the warm water. She moved closer to him and took his right arm in her slung hand. She studied his face as she touched the wet towel to his arm with her right arm.

 

Charlie meticulously wipes the dried blood off of Dean’s arms. She dips the towel again, and tries to breach Dean’s silence.

 

“Okay, so you were held up by another djinn. So what? We’ve all been there, amiright?” She cleans halfway down Dean’s forearm, carefully making her way down to his wrist.

 

“Charlie, djinn aren’t exactly a dime a dozen, and they get the jump on me. Nothing should get the jump on me. I’m not some rookie hunter.”

 

Charlie glanced up, slightly tiffed by the comment, but glad he was talking again. “Watch it.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

She continued, gently wiping his wrist to reveal deep indents and purple bruises. “You can make it up to me by telling me what happened during your wrinkle in time.”

 

“I can’t, Charlie.”

 

She threw the washcloth in the bucket. “Why not? You need to get it out of your system, Dean. I promise it’ll help.” She posed her hand underneath her chin, trying to coax a smile out of him.

 

“No, Charlie!”

 

“I swear Dean, I’ll burn your ancient porn.” She pointed where he had stashed old copies of _Busty Asian Beauties._

 

He waved her off, “Alright Fahrenheit, calm down.”

 

She continued wiping his right wrist, cleaning it of blood, and moved to wipe his other arm.

 

“So basically my first djinn fantasy was that my mom--”

“Never died. Right, Sam was engaged to good ol’Jessica, yadda yadda, I know Dean, I read your books. So were you still with that girl?”

  
Dean smirked at her, and thought back to what felt like an eternity ago, “Right, the beer model. Nah, she wasn’t in the picture. And Sam and I were closer than we were the first time around. I was younger, too. I had all different memories. Fishing, mom’s apple pie, being a mechanic for a living. You were friends with Jo, and you liked to chase after her when she was drunk.”

 

“Jo was a babe in the books, Dean. I would’ve been all over that.”

“Slow down, Cassanova, you were friends.”

She rolled her eyes. “So, do you remember where the fantasy started? Could you tell?”

“Actually, I guess it started with Lisa breaking up with me the day before Sam’s wedding.”

 

“That’s kinda harsh. This is your fantasy, Dean?”

 

“It gets…weirder…”

 

She dipped the towel in the now-red-water bucket. “I don’t know how that’s possible unless you said your best man speech naked.”

 

“Close. I collapsed then. That’s when Sam and Cas brought me back.” Castiel’s name felt different in his mouth. He paused.

 

Charlie did, too. “It’s about the angel, isn’t it?”

 

He stared blankly at her.

 

“Isn’t it? You and his holy dreamboat hooked up? In your fantasy?”

 

He opened his mouth to correct her, but nothing came out.  


“I _knew_ it.” She finished wiping his other wrist, and stood to grab Dean’s clean clothes.

 

“What the fuck, How?”

 

She tossed his clothes to him and turned around for him to change.

  
“You’ve been weird with him ever since you’ve been conscious.”

 

Dean threw his shirt against the wall and scoffed, “How does that prove we kissed?”

 

“HA! SO YOU DID!” Charlie spun around dramatically, to a shirtless Dean. “Oh right, sorry, continue stripping.” She spun back.

 

Dean dropped his pants and boxers, and quickly replaced them with the fresh lavender-scented clothes. He smiled reluctantly and sat back down on the bed with a creak. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

 

Charlie turned around again and put the wet washcloth in the bucket and grabbed it with her free arm. She turned a knob to illuminate Dean’s table lamp. “Fine. We can talk more later if you feel like it, but I’m leaving tomorrow night for Tuscany.” She kissed his forehead, “I love you.”

 

Dean smiled up at her and replied, “I know.”

 

She backed out of the room, flicking off his light, just leaving on his dim bedside lamp.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Dean was drowsy, but still wasn’t able to sleep. Though he talked through some of his mixed up memories with Charlie, he was having trouble accepting real life again. He was older, with the Mark angry on his forearm. His headache soldiered on, even after he took plenty of pain meds. The ringing in his ears kept him from falling asleep.

 

He kept replaying his dance with Cas over and over again, like it was his favorite movie on rewind.

 

“Dean.”

 

Dean sat up, and saw Cas leaning against his door frame.

 

“I can fix your headache, if you wish.”

 

Dean nodded in the dark, and Cas moved silently to his bedside. He touched his fingers to Dean’s temple and the ringing in his ears stopped. Dean exhaled a sigh of relief.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome, Dean.” Cas replied gruffly, and started walking towards the door.

 

“Cas, wait.”

 

Cas didn’t turn around, but moved his head to a profiled view.

 

“Can you do me a favor?”

 

“Anything.”

 

Dean swallowed a lump in his throat. “Stay.” He didn’t mean for it to happen, but his voice broke as the words stumbled out, “Please, stay here tonight.”

 

Without another word, Cas walked around to the left side of Dean’s bed, removed his shoes and coat, and sat down in it.

 

Dean’s eyes finally drooped. “Thanks Cas…” He whispered, drifting off to sleep.

 

His guardian angel watched over him over the course of the night. As Dean slept, Castiel smoothed and stroked his unconscious charge’s hair, and hummed the only Foreigner song he knew.

 


End file.
